


SoMa NSFW Week 2013

by fabulousanima



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Closet Sex, Cunnilingus, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-06
Updated: 2013-06-06
Packaged: 2017-12-14 03:49:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/832366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabulousanima/pseuds/fabulousanima
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A compilation of the prompts for SoMa NSFW Week 2013.</p>
            </blockquote>





	SoMa NSFW Week 2013

**Author's Note:**

> This is a collection of all my drabbles for SoMa NSFW Week. They were previously posted on my tumblr, but I edited them for clarity and polishing.
> 
> NOTE: Day 3 is the same college AU as my previous story "First of Many."

**Day 1: Tie**

Maka was bored as hell.

She drummed her fingers on the table, but the thick tablecloth prevented her from making any sort of satisfactory noise.  She blew air out between her teeth, ruffling her bangs.  This was torture.

Soul was sitting next to her, his head nodding towards his chest.  She couldn’t even blame him; these speeches were droning on forever, and they were only on the second guest!

Kid had insisted upon a large banquet to celebrate a recent victory against a particularly nasty witch.  Unlike his father, the new Shinigami was rather fond of long speeches, and had insisted that this formal affair consist of at least a dozen.  It wasn’t helping matters that his introductions for each speaker were almost as long as the speeches themselves.

Soul’s Deathscythe status had required both of them to get dressed up and sit in the dark all evening, listening to people fumble with notecards and make half-hearted jokes.  Maka had already eaten the scant appetizers provided, but the rest of the meal wasn’t due until the sixth speaker was done.

Maka was trying desperately to act the part of a dignified meister, but it was all she could do not to put her head on the table and sob.  She could sit still for hours when she was reading a book, of course, but that was when her mind was _engaged_ , and not feeling as if it were being pulled out of her skull through her ears by the monotony of dull speakers.  She was bored out of her mind and there was no end in sight.  She glanced to her left to study Stein, and vaguely considered reaching into his pocket to dig out his lighter and set the table on fire to make things a little more interesting, but managed to resist the temptation.

The second guest speaker, a meister from South America, finished her speech, and Kid took the podium again.  He began to introduce the third lecturer, but as soon as the phrase “It all started when—” left his lips, Maka stood up.  Soul jumped, startled out of his doze, and turned to look at her.

“We’ll be right back,” she whispered pleasantly, and though her smile was kind, her eyes were blazing.  Soul followed her as she wove in between the tables, occasionally nodding in greeting as they passed people they knew.  Maka rounded a corner, and her delicate glide turned into a determined march.  He quickened his pace, following his meister obediently, but was caught off guard when she veered off suddenly.  She had to grab his tie to lead him into the supply closet she had discovered.

“Wha—”

“I am sick of these speeches,” she said, dragging him into the closet and pushing a rolling cart in front of the door.

“I am sick of these tiny portions,” she said, kicking boxes and shuffling trays to give them more room in the confined space and whirling on him.

“And I am sick of these clothes being on,” she said, running her hand up the length of his tie to reach his throat, tugging lightly to bring his lips to hers, lips that were already stretched into a leering grin before she had finished speaking.

His breath was hot against her tongue as she entered his mouth, her fingers still clutching the silky fabric of his tie.  He allowed her to push against him before slanting his mouth to capture her tongue for himself.  His sharp teeth grazed against her bottom lip as he pulled back, drawing out a gasp from his partner.  She pulled again on the cloth between her hands, and he fell against her, pressing her into another tray table.

Before Maka could respond, his hands were trailing up her thighs and cupping her ass, lifting her into the air and placing her roughly on the table.  He slid up the smooth expanse of her skin under her dress, reaching the apex of her legs.  With expert fingers, he curled around the lace of her underwear.  Maka squirmed as Soul chuckled in her ear, licking at the lobe.  “You’re pretty ready for this,” he whispered, running a finger slowly down her wet sex.  She moaned in response.

Soul teased at her entrance, causing her to writhe under his attentions.  She was not sure how she got so riled up so fast, but she suspected it had something to do with an evening of rising blood pressure and inordinate frustration.  Soul attacked her neck with his mouth, biting lightly at her skin as he slipped a finger inside her.  She gasped.

“Harder,” she said breathily.

“If I leave a mark, everyone will see it when we go back out there,” he said.

“Who says we’re going back out there?”

He chuckled and scraped his teeth along her skin.  He inserted another finger and licked from the hollow of her neck to her jaw line.  She let out a gasp and he moved against her, pressing closer.

There was a knock on the door.  “I know you’re in there.”

“Go away, Patty,” growled Maka.

“Kid told me to tell you to get the fuck out of the closet before he blasts a hole in the wall the size of a dump truck,” she said in a sing song voice.  “ _I_ don’t care if you’re getting it on in a closet, but he seems to think it’s inappropriate.”

“Patty,” Soul murmured, his forehead resting on Maka’s shoulder.  “We’re not exactly presentable right now.”  Maka could feel his erection pressed against her thigh through the fabric of his pants.

“Kid said you have exactly 80 seconds before he sends Spirit to find you instead.”

Maka and Soul groaned.

 

* * *

 

**Day 2: Legs**

Maka was pouting.  Soul could see it out of the corner of his eyes as he mashed the buttons of the controller.

He tried to ignore her moodiness, but her morose sighs punctuating the air every few minutes made it difficult to focus.  After a particularly loud huff, Soul’s character fell off the edge and he lost his last life.  He set the controller down and flung himself down, flopping into Maka’s lap to peer petulantly up at her.

“What?” she asked sullenly.

“You’re being grouchy,” he said.

She pursed her lips, stubbornly refusing to meet is gaze.  “I am not.”

Soul continued to gaze up at her, watching a flush spread across her cheeks.

“I thought you would have been happy to stay inside for a few weeks.”

“Not when I’m forced to!” she cried, jerking suddenly and thumping her leg in its heavy cast against the coffee table upon which it was propped.

“Careful, you’re gonna break—”

“Ugh!” she groaned, flinging her head back onto the cushions behind her.  Soul glanced sideways to gaze at the large purple cast covering one of his meister’s creamy legs.  It caused him a twinge of guilt; had he not been smacked out of her grasp during that last fight, he might have been able to stop her fall.  The sickening crack of her bone snapping had echoed in his ears as he ran to her side.

He twisted away, looking to find a way to assuage the churning in his gut.  Soul glanced up again, his eyes roving over the contours of his meister’s torso.  She gazed down at him, meeting his burgundy stare.  The hard lines of her mouth softened.

“I’m sorry,” she said to his surprise.

“For what?”

“I just… I don’t like anyone else wielding you.  And now for the next few weeks…”

The pit in his stomach seemed to twist, and he flipped over without warning.  Maka gasped.  “You may not be the only one to use me for the next few weeks,” he murmured, breath feathering across the top of her thighs, “but you are the only one who gets to use me like this.”  She shivered under his deft fingers as he ran a hand from her knee to her thigh.  He lifted her bare leg up until her knee rested near her shoulder, and maneuvered her thin cotton shorts and panties over it.

“It’s hard to get it over the cast,” she whispered as he tugged lightly on them.

“All right, whatever,” he said, pushing away the fabric still caught around the top of one leg.  “Doesn’t mean I can’t reach.”  He lowered his head, his hair brushing against her sensitive skin. He pursed his lips and blew gently on her folds.  She hissed and clenched her thighs.  Soul continued his breathy assault until he could see her glisten underneath him.  Now that she was plenty aroused, he slid the arm not holding up her good leg to her lap so as to run a finger between her wet folds.  She hummed in pleasure.

Maka had her eyes closed and her head thrown back again, and Soul paused a moment to gaze at her.  The crease between her eyebrows was gone, and her blush reached down her long neck to her collarbone.  She squirmed, as if slightly impatient, and he decided he had had enough drinking in of the sights; it was time to eat the main course.

Soul lowered his lips to meet her moist ones, and she gasped.  He paid particular attention to the bundle of nerves that elicited the most ragged sighs of his name.  Maka threaded her fingers through his hair as he used his fingers to spread her sex and give it a slow lick.  He was never quite sure how to describe the way she tasted other than _good_.  He peppered kissed from one thigh, across her folds, to the other, and her head rocked back and forth with his movements.

He slid one of the fingers at her entrance into her, earning himself another hum of contentment.  Without much preamble, he added the second.  She was clearly stressed out as of late; she was tight around just those two.  Well, he would have to fix that.  He pressed them to the roof of her sex and curled them against her.  He returned his attentions to her clit, gently using his teeth to worry her skin.  She writhed on the couch, and he used his other hand on her leg to try to keep her steady.

More quickly than he had been expecting — he must have riled her up more than her thought — she came with a moan of his name and a buck of her hips.  He didn’t stop his rhythm as she contracted around his fingers, watching as she melted below him.  Eventually, he removed his lips with a loud final suck, and she looked him with amusement in her tired face.

Soul slithered a hand up her body to cup her cheek and draw her in for a kiss.  As they broke apart, Maka smiled.  “I guess it’s time to return to favor,” she said, eying the bulge in her partner’s pants.

“Yeah, but aren’t you kinda stuck?”

Maka glanced down at her cast with a thoughtful look on her face.

“Let’s get creative.”

Soul grinned.

 

* * *

 

**Day 3: Piano (college AU)**

Maka tried to look over her shoulder. Nope. She glanced in her sideview mirror. Still not great. Her tongue between her teeth, she slowly eased off of the brake, allowing the truck to slide out of the parking space.

It was her freshman year of college, and she was finally – finally! – moving into the dorms. She and her high school friend Tsubaki had ended up choosing the same school and decided to split the cost of the U-Haul truck to move all their stuff at the same time. Maka had spent all morning unloading at Tsubaki's dorm building, and then at her own; she was hot and sticky and tired, but she still needed to drop the truck off to avoid a late fee. But the stupid thing was designed poorly, and it was difficult to see out the back.

She continued to inch her way out of the parking spot until she heard her name being called.

“You're Maka, right?” The boy adjusted his glasses as he approached the van.

“Yeah?”

“I'm your RA, Ox. I need you to fill out this form.”

“Can it wait? I need to bring this--”

“No, it can't.” He shoved a piece of paper in through the open window. Maka scowled.

“Do you have a pen?”

Ox frowned at her. “You need to be prepared to succeed in college, Maka.” He pulled one out of the breast pocket of his button down shirt. Maka barely managed not to fling it back in his face. She quickly scribbled down the information on the sheet (it could have waited, none of this was important, the brat) and threw it to Ox. He nodded curtly and walked away.

In her impatience, Maka did not look in the rearview mirror.

There was a gut-wrenching _crunch_ and she felt a pit grow in her stomach as the back end of the truck was impeded in its roll down the pavement. “No, no, no, no...” Maka kicked open the driver's side door and stumbled out of the high cab. “No, no, no, _no_ \--”

The mangled mess of what had been a piano stood behind her truck. Maka fell to her knees with a wail of anguish, hands in her hair. No, no, she would never be able to afford to replace a _piano_ , who the _hell_ brought a piano to school, why was it in the parking lot, was she going to get kicked out of college before she had taken a single class, no no no no _**no**_.

A lanky figure appeared from around the side of her truck, looking flabbergasted. The young man had striking white hair and ruddy eyes, and his slack mouth revealed unusually sharp teeth. He surveyed the corpse of the piano with a dumbfounded expression.

“I'm so sorry, is this your piano? I'm so sorry, please, oh God, I can fix it, I can-- I can pay for it, just please, oh my God, I am so sorry--”

“Did you do this?” he asked, whirling to look at her.

“Yes, and I'm so, so sorry--”

“Can I take you to dinner?”

*

His name was Soul. He was a music major, and his (apparently very wealthy) folks insisted he go off to college with his own piano; they had arranged with the school to keep it in the lobby of his dorm. But it seemed Soul had a bit of a contentious relationship with the piano, and hadn't wanted to bring it. He admitted he would rather focus on music production, not classical playing.

Maka had stood in the parking lot for six whole minutes before she believed that Soul really wasn't angry and really wanted to thank her by buying her dinner. She had been flustered and confused, but agreed to meet him after the first week of classes was over. As it turned out, they lived in the same building, and even had a class together. By the time they actually went on the date, they were becoming fast friends.

Well into October, Maka found herself sitting on Soul's bed watching a movie on his laptop. They were alone; Soul's roommate Black*Star had gone to a house party, and was not due back until four in the morning, piss drunk and staggering. Neither Maka nor Soul were much for loud, raucous parties, so they had opted to lie next to one another on the thin bed, gazing at the movie on Soul's MacBook instead.

Maka found her attention drifting. She wanted to know what happened in the movie, but she wanted to know what she and Soul _were_ more than the ending. It was clear that they were something more than friends – at least, neither had been seeing anyone else and when they hung out they ended up with their limbs wrapped around each other's more often than not – but they had never discussed the matter, and aside from the peck on the cheek Soul had given her after their one date, they had never kissed.

Experimentally, she pressed her shoulder against his. He turned to look at her, a slow grin creeping across his face. He pushed back a little harder. She giggled and shoved him back, and soon it evolved into an all-out tickle war. Eventually it ended with both of them struggling to catch their breath, lying on their sides facing one another, the movie forgotten.

His hand still rested on the curve of her waist as they calmed down, but he made no move to draw back. Her shirt had slid up during the course of their wrestling, and his palm was warm on her skin.

“You're pretty ticklish.”

“So are you!”

“You're the one who screeched in my ear.”

“And you're the one who nearly wet himself, he was laughing so hard,” she said, shifting slightly.

“Are you wearing pink underwear?” Soul asked suddenly, his eyes sliding to her waist.

“Maybe,” she said, trying to sound coy.

“Never took you for a girl who likes pink.”

“Maybe I secretly wear lacy pink underwear every day and no one knows.”

Soul toyed with one of her belt loops, turning his rusty gaze to meet her stare. “Sounds like something that needs investigating.”

“Like a science experiment?”

“You're such a nerd. But sure, why the hell not, yeah, someone needs to do an experiment. Run multiple trials.”

Maka scooted closer to his chest, feeling _butterflies_ in her stomach, of all things, like she was 15 again. “Maybe that's a good idea.”

Soul leaned forward, their lips brushing. “So I guess we'll call this day one.” He pressed his lips against hers with more force, and Maka felt as if all her nerves were on fire. She turned her head to deepen the kiss and felt Soul's hand slid from her waist to her lower back, pulling her in closer. He nibbled gently on her lower lip and she gasped, and he took advantage of her parted lips to taste her tongue with his.

She slid closer to him, pressing their chests together. Their legs tangled as he teased her with languid strokes of his tongue. She slid her hand over his shoulder and under the collar of his shirt, enjoying the feel of his skin under her fingertips. His hand roved further up her back, sending a shiver down her spine. Maka twisted her hips against his, and he let out a moan, causing him break the kiss.

“Flip over,” Soul said hoarsely, and Maka wordlessly obeyed. His arm wrapped around her torso to drag her flush against him, and she could feel his erection pressed against her backside through the fabric of her jeans. He slid his hand to the button of her jeans and after fumbling for a moment, he managed to get it open. He undid her fly and began to play with the top of her underwear.

“Look at that,” he breathed, kissing the shell of her ear. “It is pink.” She trembled as he licked at her earlobe. He inched his way into the fabric, his hand almost impossibly warm. He rolled forward, tucking his fingers against her folds. Soul rubbed against her as he pressed a fingertip to her bundle of nerves. Maka gasped.

She felt a tingling in her stomach as he slipped a finger past her folds, and her toes curled. He let out a hum next to her ear. She felt her heart thud loudly in her chest. Soul moved the finger inside her, creating a rhythm with his pianist touch.

“Another,” she breathed, and he obliged, inserting another digit. He continued his assault on her sanity, whispering things in her ear that she only half understood. She felt as if she were about to burst into flames. Soul moved faster and she saw stars. Her breathing grew more and more labored until she gripped the sheets underneath her, mouth open in a silent gasp. She felt her orgasm ripple through her and she let out the breath she was holding, releasing all at once.

Soul was kissing her neck, worrying the skin with his teeth, but Maka didn't allow herself to rest. She twisted in his arms and pushed his shoulder onto the bed. She straddled his hips, meeting his startled gaze. She licked her lips deliberately, and his eyes grew hooded and dark with desire. She shimmied down over his body until she could reach his belt easily. She undid the buckle and slid his pants down his legs. His boxers were tented, and she curled her fingers around the elastic waistband. Soul shifted, and his erection slid out of the front flap of the boxers. Maka released the top of his underwear and wrapped her hands around his cock instead. He hissed and threw his head back as she pumped slowly, slightly surprised at how warm it was.

“Harder,” he groaned, and she tightened her hold. Now he was the one panting. Maka leaned forward to experimentally lick the vein she felt beneath her fingers. Soul growled, and she tried again. His ragged moans were all the encouragement she needed, and she wrapped her lips around the head of his cock. Maka pressed her tongue flat and moved her head up and down, spurred on by Soul's fingers twisting in her hair. She saw his stomach muscles contract.

“Wait, wait, wait, Maka--”

She lifted her head to look at him curiously. He wrapped his own hand around his erection and with two more pumps, he came down onto the front of his boxers. Maka giggled at his sheepish look.

“Didn't want you to, y'know, have to...”

“Maybe next time,” she said, climbing up his body to kiss him on the cheek, grinning at the stunned look on his face.

 

* * *

 

**Day 4: Scream (high school AU)**

This has to be one of Soul's favorite ways to spend a Saturday afternoon.

His nose pressing into short, curled hairs, Maka's hands twisting in his hair, his tongue lapping gently at her wet folds, her screams and moans of pleasure in his ears; what more could he ask for?

They are draped across her comforter, her pants around her knees, her hands on her own hips to prevent herself from bucking into his face. He doesn't mind, but she always says she doesn't want to hurt him accidentally. He is hard against the bed, knowing that his release is on the other side of hers, and so he patiently tastes her, enjoying spreading her juices across her inner thighs as he slides two fingers into her. Maka cries out, head rolling into the soft bed below her.

Soul loves it when she's loud. He likes the ego boost, hearing his name roll off her dry tongue. He likes the privacy, knowing only he has ever heard these sounds come out of her mouth. He likes the swears, her normally prim vocabulary turned rough and needy. But he especially loves seeing her enjoy herself, seeing her experience pleasure, something he is doing for her and her alone. It took a while for her to trust him, and he savors every moment of vulnerability she allows him. He would love to kiss her deeply right now, let her know exactly how much he loves her even though he has yet to say those words, but in his position at her quivering thighs, he is unable to reach her mouth, so he kisses another set of lips instead.

Maka releases another throaty cry, louder than all the others.

“Maka? Are you okay, honey?”

Soul's blood runs cold. Maka sits up, her face still flushed with pleasure despite the look of horror that adorned it.

“Maka?”

“I'm fine, Papa!” she yells out, then turns to Soul, looking aghast. “He's home!” she hisses.

“No shit!”

Maka jerks, grabbing the waistband of her pants and hauling them up her legs. Soul slides off the bed, looking around with wild eyes. His erection is still straining the front of his pants; it could not be more obvious. Maka is struggling with her belt.

“You need to get out of here!”

“How?”

“Can you get out the window?”

“You want me to break my neck?”

“No, no, um, okay, shit--”

“What are we gonna--”

“Hide!” Maka puts her hands on his chest and shoves him towards the closet.

“Are you joking?”

“Just hide!” She pushes him in and closes the door, whirling to face her father as he entered the room.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” he asks.

“Fine!” she says.

“I heard you scream.”

Fuck. “I did scream, yes,” Maka says quickly.

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah, I'm fine, I... saw a rat.”

“A rat? In my house?”

“Yeah, a big nasty one.”

“Oh honey, I'm so sorry. Don't worry, it can't have gotten far...” Soul hears shuffling, as if Spirit is searching the room.

“No! It's gone.”

“I bet we can find it--”

“No! We need to get something to catch it. We need a cat!”

“A cat?”

“Yes! Right now! Before it's been too long! C'mon Papa, you always said you'd get me a pet, and now's your chance.”

“But Maka--”

“Right now,” she says, firmly placing her hands on her father's back and marching him out of her room.

_“And that's how we got my little kitty Blair! Maka finished with a squeal, and the girls burst into laughter, Patty almost knocking her margarita to the floor in her exuberance. Soul rolled his eyes from the other side of the table, trying to ignore the girls' shrill giggles. Black*Star turned to him._

_“That true?”_

_“Yeah, it was awful. I had to ride my motorcycle home with a hard-on.”_

_“Oh, it wasn't so bad,” Maka said, waving her half-full glass at him. “And I got a kitten out of the ordeal. Best result of Soul going down on me ever,” she said, smirking at him while Liz howled with laughter. Soul scowled at her. “Oh, don't be a sourpuss, we're graduating college!” Maka chided him. “Lighten up.”_

_Soul clutched his Corona as Maka was swept up in the girls' conversation again. Yes, they were graduating college in a few days. He could hardly believe that he had managed it, and he especially couldn't believe he had managed to have a relationship with Maka for almost six years. It hadn't been easy and it hadn't been without its ups and downs, but as she turned to him, still listening to what Tsubaki was saying, and gave him a slow, warm smile, he decided that it had been worth it._

 

* * *

 

**Day 5: Hand**

Soul slowly regained consciousness.

He sat up, still seeing stars and struggling to remember the events that had precipitated his downfall. There had definitely been a large book to the cranium, but the _why_ was not so clear to him. He rubbed his sore head, trying to get some blood flow back into his brain.

He couldn't hear anyone else in the apartment. Maka must have left soon after rendering him immobile. It was probably for the best; if he couldn't remember his crime, he couldn't properly apologize (which meant beg for forgiveness). This gave him a chance to gather his thoughts.

What was the last thing he could recall? He had gotten home from school...

_Soul entered the apartment and threw his backpack to the floor. It was one of the days that meisters didn't have afternoon classes, so Maka was already home. She was in her room, folding some of their laundry. Soul came in behind her and wrapped his arms around her middle._

_“Hi,” she said._

_“Hi,” he murmured into her neck. “What are we doing tonight?”_

_“Well, I have a meeting with some other meisters and Kid, so nothing. But we have some leftovers in the fridge, so you won't starve.”_

_Soul groaned against her skin. “I wanted to just hang out tonight,” he mock-whined._

_“Too bad.”_

_He nipped at her neck. “Can we at least have a little fun before you go?”_

_Maka hummed, but Soul couldn't tell if it was in agreement or not, so he started kissing the skin he could reach. She giggled. “Fine,” she said, faking a put-upon tone of voice, but rolled her hips backwards to grind against the erection that was quickly rising behind her. Soul continued to pepper her neck with kisses._

_She gyrated against him, and soon he was huffing against her skin. He could see goosebumps rise where his heated pants touched her neck. She leaned forward, her hands spread on her comforter, and he made quick work of his fly._

_Once Soul was free of his jeans and his boxers, he lifted Maka's skirt and twisted his fingers around the thin fabric of her panties. He dragged them down her long legs laboriously slow, listening to her moans of frustration as he took his time. She was already glistening wet for him by the time he rubbed the head of his erection against her sex. He sunk into her, loving the gasp it elicited, and he let out a groan as he felt her tighten around him._

_Maka bent her spine, curving into him. He dragged his hips backwards, then slammed forward. She let out a cry. He did it again, and again, and again, each time dragging out more moans and gasps from the both of them._

_Soul turned his hooded gaze to where they met, and watched as he slid in and out of her. He wanted to grab hold of the smooth expanse of ass in front of him, and reached forward, but misjudged his strength, slapping her backside with more force than he'd intended. She groaned, turning her head over her shoulder to look at him with glazed eyes. Soul met Maka's gaze, and did it again. He wasn't using too much strength, not nearly enough to hurt her, but enough to watch the ripple of her flesh as his hand made contact with it, enough to hear the satisfying sound. She turned away, throwing her head backwards this time to let out a pleasurable wail as she came, clenching around him. Soul let out a throaty growl and came right after her, leaning forward to rest his forehead against her back._

_They remained that way for a few more minutes, panting to catch their breath. Soul littered Maka's shining neck with kisses as he pulled out of her, and she let out a hiss._

_She slid off the bed and got shakily to her feet. “Mmm,” she said, turning to smile at him. “I think I need a shower before I leave.” He nodded, grinning back, and she leaned forward to plant a chaste kiss on his lips. She kicked her underwear off, flinging them in the direction of where her hamper normally sat (as it was currently at the end of her bed, still half full of clean laundry), and walked off to enter the bathroom. Soul redid his jeans, deciding he would shower too after she was done in there. He shuffled into the living room, flopping onto the couch to watch some TV while he waited. He heard the water turn on._

_Soul stared listlessly at the screen for about twenty minutes when he heard the water shut off. After another moment, he heard a loud cry of indignation. The bathroom door slammed open, and Maka stormed up to him, wearing nothing but her towel. She screeched shrilly, but all he could make out was “how dare!” and “handprint!” and “my ass, you ass!” and before he could react, she grabbed a book on the coffee table and embedded it in his skull._

Soul grinned to himself. That was it, yes. Well, he would put on his most remorseful face when Maka got back home, but he would make damn sure to get a look at her ass cheek when she wasn't looking.

 

* * *

 

**Day 6: Mark**

He isn’t quite sure if he should believe what he saw.

He isn’t 100% sure about _what_ he saw, but he _thinks_ he saw his meister run out of the bathroom cupping her hands over her nipples, her small breasts bouncing as she ran into her room.

Soul holds the remote aloft, lowering the volume on the TV and staring at the closed bedroom door that hides Maka from his sight.  He strains his ears to hear any sound that might tell him _why_ he just saw Maka gallop across the house naked from the waist up.

He gets his answer soon enough.  “Soul?  Could you come here?”

Soul stands slowly.  “What is it?” he asks cautiously.

She steps out from behind her door, and holy shit, _he saw correctly_.  Maka is clutching her tits looking sheepish.  _What_.

“I need you to look at something.”

Man, is he looking.  “What?”

She leans back slightly and presses one of her breasts upward.  “Is there some sort of mark there?”

Soul licks his lips.  “What do you mean?”

“I thought I saw something in the mirror in the bathroom, but the light wasn’t great and I couldn’t get up high enough to see properly anyway.  The light’s better in my room, but I still just can’t tell…”

He steps up closer, and her eyes grow wide.  She looks a little startled, so he grins to calm her down.  Oops, that might have been a little too lecherous, a little less reassuring.

“Lemme see,” he breathes huskily, and leans down to bring his face close to his meister’s smooth flesh.  He sees a small dusting of color, and if he had to hazard a guess (which he was in no position to do, he was far too distracted), he might have thought it looked like a faint bruise; perhaps she had hit herself somehow and not noticed at the time.  But that was far less interesting to him than how she smelled, fresh and flowery and _Maka_.

He presses his lips to her skin.  He can count on his hands the number of times he has kissed her lips, but he is now ratcheting up his total number of tit-kisses to _one_.  It’s an awkward angle, but he has just been given a rare gift, and he doesn’t care if he gets a sore back unwrapping it.

Maka lets out a tiny whimper from above him, but she shifts in such a way that he decides it was a noise of pleasure, and he grows bolder, scraping his teeth on her pale skin.  She shudders, and he knows he’s in the clear.

He brings one hand to her waist to slide up that achingly long smooth stretch of skin from her hip bone to her other breast, and peels her fingers away to replace with his own.  She lets out another small sound, and he uses his tongue to draw slow circles on her skin.

Soul gently tugs at her soft skin with his fingers, feeling it harden into a small nub underneath his dexterous hands.  He opens his mouth a little wider and bites down on her.  He uses his tongue to drag at her skin, sucking at her taut skin, and her knees seem to shake under his attentions.  He drags at her harder and she lets out a moan.

Soul releases her skin with a wet pop and steps back to admire his handiwork (“ _mouthiwork_ ,” perhaps).  “Now there’s a mark there,” he says cheekily.  She stares at him, then kicks him in the shins.

 

* * *

 

**Day 7: Finish**

Her heart was pounding, her muscles were aching, her skin was drenched in sweat, and she was panting heavily, but she was _so close_ ; if she could only hold out a little longer...

Her foot slammed across the white stripe of the finish line, and Maka lifted her tired arms in triumph. She passed under the large banner proclaiming “Death City 42nd Annual Marathon.”

Maka spotted Soul in the sidelines, and slowed her jog to approach him. He offered her an enormous water bottle, and she chugged almost all of it in the blink of an eye. He quirked an eyebrow at her, and she poured the rest of it over her head, letting out a hoarse cry of relief.

“I did it,” she croaked. He grinned at her.

“Yeah, you fucking did.”

Maka threw her head back, still trying to slow her breathing. She stomped her feet, shifting her weight back and forth. “Didn't think I could?” she panted.

“I knew you could, I just couldn't understand why you would _want_ to.”

“I'm always up for a challenge,” she huffed out.

Soul rolled his eyes, but motioned for her to meet him further down the line where the barricades ended. She shuffled alongside him until she could leave the track, and followed him tiredly down one of the side streets. “Ready to go home?” he asked, and she nodded.

It took her almost the entire way back to their apartment to catch her breath, but at the sight of the flights of stairs between her and her bed, she almost wailed out loud. Maka sunk to the ground, moaning loudly, until Soul relented and stooped, allowing her to clamber onto his back. He carried her up the steps until they reached the door of their apartment.

Soul let them in, and Maka thought about showering off, but her aching muscles begged her for a break from standing, so she sluggishly entered her room and flopped face first onto the bed, her sneakers dangling in midair. Soul approached her and undid the laces of her shoes, slipping them off her feet (“Oh my _God_ , Maka”) and letting them fall to the floor. He knelt on the bed and nudged her until she groaned and shuffled to accommodate him.

“Wake me in a bit,” she ordered, and promptly fell into a dreamless sleep.

In what felt like far less than “a bit,” Maka felt a warm hand rubbing her back. She turned away from her partner, and he slid in closer behind her. She quickly became aware of his intentions.

“Really?” she said into the comforter. “I just ran a marathon, and you wanna do that _now_?”

“You did tell me to wake you up.”

“I was thinking, like, coffee or an energy drink.”

“This is significantly more satisfying.”

“I dunno, I brew a good cup of coffee. In fact, I think you even said that last stuff we got was 'orgasmic'. Might be the same result then.”

“Are you trying to tell me coffee is as good as sex with me?”

“It is significantly less sticky.”

Soul sighed loudly. “Fine,” he said, sounding resigned, breath puffing against her skin. “I'll go make coffee. I guess I thought you'd have a little more _stamina_. I wasn't expecting you to _give up_ so easily. I suppose it's to be expected, _you can only do so much_. Well, you are--”

Maka twisted in his arms and shoved his shoulders into the pillows. She slid a long leg over him, and straddled his waist. She gripped the edges of her sports bra and tore it over her head, sitting astride him barechested. She slid her hands under his shirt and pulled at it until he shifted and allowed her to drag it off him.

“I'm always up for a challenge.”

“Me too.”

“Evidently.”

Soul grinned up at her.

Maka gyrated her hips over him, rubbing against the bulge in his pants. He watched her through lidded eyes, glancing from her flushing face to her swaying tits to her clenching abs. She pressed her hands into his shoulders harder to allow herself more leverage, making her movements more forceful. He opened his mouth to breathe harder. She stopped moving her hips in a figure eight motion and began sliding back and forth, watching him twist the sheets in his hands.

She stopped abruptly, grabbing the top of his jeans and tugging at them. Maka supported herself over him while he fumbled with his belt, kicking himself free of his pants and boxers. She settled herself back down over his naked erection, and Soul let out a moan. She continued her ministrations, feeling herself grow wet in her tight running shorts. Once she had him squeezing his eyes shut, breathing heavily, she lifted herself once again and pulled off the stiff shorts.

Maka reached down to grab him, kneeling over his crotch. His eyes snapped open and found her face, intensely focused all of a sudden. She rubbed the head of his cock against her entrance, watching him watch her. She pressed her knees on either side of him as she guided him into her wet sex, and his eyes rolled back into his head. Her lips quirked into a smile.

They stayed that way for a moment, focusing on the sensation of her covering him and him filling her. She tightened the walls of her sex, and he sucked air in through his teeth.

Using her knees as leverage, Maka lifted herself up slightly to sink back down on him again. His hands found their way to her hips. She could feel the warmth of his erection inside her, could feel the slight twitching that ran through it into her. She raised herself up again and came down with more force. Slowly, laboriously, she built a rhythm, carefully observing the jumping in Soul's muscles below her fingertips.

“Maka,” he moaned. “I think I'm gonna come.”

She froze, settling down on his lap as he cracked an eye open. She grinned lazily at him.

“What the hell.”

“Sorry Soul, but you know you don't recover very fast, and if you come first, I have to wait. And I don't wanna wait.”

“I know, I know, I know, I know, but ugh... okay. Whew,” he said, squeezing her hips. “Not my fault I think...” He trailed off, looking a little sheepish.

“Think what?” she asked cheekily.

He grunted and lifted his legs so that his feet lay flat on the bed and his knees lifted into the air. She leaned back against them slightly. “Nothin',” he muttered. She tightened herself around him and he let out a moan. She smirked.

“Think what?” Maka prompted. She gripped his thighs and moved her hips up, allowing herself to lift off of him. She slid back down onto him, eliciting another groan of her name. Her grin grew wider as his cries grew louder, watching him unravel under her.

She stopped once again when he started showing signs of being driven over the edge. Her chest was heaving, and she was covered once again in a sheen of sweat, but it was a little bit funny to hear his whimper as she stilled around him.

“Okay, okay, fine, it's not my fault that I thought you looked fucking ridiculously hot when you crossed the finish line, you were sweaty and panting and moaning and it was so fucking sexy and you're always so hot but especially then and guhhh!” Maka twisted and fell forward, her hands on either side of his hand, moving her hips against him in a furious motion, his name falling from her lips. She pounded against him, feeling a tightening in her stomach twist and turn. Like a coil snapping, she felt her release, and tossed her head back to shout Soul's name to the ceiling, cushioned on either side with loud swears. She felt him pulse inside her and orgasm right after she came, cursing gutturally.

She slid down onto her elbows, opening her eyes to stare into his warm gaze, their hot breaths mingling. Maka pressed a gentle kiss to his cheekbone. “You're not so bad yourself,” she murmured. She shifted her legs so that they lay parallel with his, and he wrapped his arms around his waist.

“Wake me up in a bit,” she said, and he chuckled.


End file.
